


good things will find us

by ilcocoabean



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gladiators, Fluff, M/M, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:06:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilcocoabean/pseuds/ilcocoabean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What would you do with your freedom if I gave it to you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	good things will find us

**Author's Note:**

> Third and final fic written for [RTSecretSanta](http://rtsecretsanta.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr for [thelastpilot](http://thelastpilot.tumblr.com/). Prompt was "Michael as a gladiator, fighting under the eye of King Geoff. Gavin is a servant that tends to his armor and food while he is imprisoned." Heavily inspired by the movie _Gladiator_ and very minimal research. I do not presume to know everything about gladiators. If there are any particular glaring mistakes please let me know. Title inspired by [You Ruined Everything—Jonathan Coulton](http://youtu.be/f-8hrKb8SAQ).
> 
> Read @ [LJ](http://sandedletters.livejournal.com/16612.html).

The crowds were roaring in Michael's ears as he circled his target. The challenger today was a dimachaerus which was a pity because he was clearly in need of a shield considering how poorly he was handling the swords in his hands. It was odd for Michael to be facing such an opponent. As a provocator, it was understood he would only fight those of his class. However his lanista had informed him that the emperor wished to see him engage in such an unusual fight.

“If you should die,” the lanista called out as he entered the arena, “make your death interesting!”

As his adversary darted forward, Michael held his ground and waited until the last moment before darting to the side, out of the swords' reach before turning to slice at the man's bare back. The crowd cheered and he continued, moving forward to stab the man in one leg then the other, grinning underneath his helmet as the man fell to his knees. 

He set his shield to the side and looked to the box where Emperor Ramsey and his family sat, watching. The king stood, approaching the balcony and held out his fist with his thumb outstretched to the side for one moment before finally turning it downwards. 

Michael turned and found the dimachaerus already bowing his head in defeat. Bringing his sword up he swung down as hard as he could crying out in triumph as the head came off clean, rolling over the sand of the arena. He lifted his sword and shield, ignoring the sting in his arms at the cuts his opponent had managed to get on him. They would be tended to later.

As he exited the arena he saw his friend Ray standing in the tunnel, waiting to be announced.

“I wish you luck,” he said as he walked by. “The emperor has a taste for different battles today.”

Ray sighed as he shifted the trident in his left hand to his elbow, reaching over to rearrange the net on his right arm. “Of course he does. When does the emperor not ever submit us to his whims?”

“I shall see you later my friend.”

“Not unless someone pays for company.”

“They already know I am not to be touched tonight. I always dine with the emperor after the first battle.”

“I was not referring to you,” Ray grinned. “Everyone knows you are off limits tonight. But I am not. So perhaps tomorrow.”

Michael smiled. “I look forward to it old friend.”

**. . .**

“You performed well out there today,” Geoff commented as he embraced Michael. “My wife was most impressed. Do you mean to continue to woo her in order to gain your freedom?”

“I have no such motive, sire,” Michael replied. “My only intention is to woo you.”

The emperor laughed and clapping a hand on his back, led Michael down the hall. “Well that is most certainly working.”

The chamber they entered was empty save for a few servants rushing about setting the table. There were plates filled with meats and fruits. At the center was a boar which Michael knew was to honor him. The emperor reached for a goblet and taking the pitcher from the servant poured the wine and handed it to Michael before reaching for another goblet for himself.

“To your health sire,” Michael said, raising his cup. 

“And to yours, my champion,” Geoff replied.

They drank and for a moment were silent. Michael watched as the emperor walked about the table, picking at grapes. Finally he turned to him. “What would you do with your freedom if I gave it to you?”

“I have been a slave my entire life, sire,” Michael replied. “I wouldn't know what other life there is that does not include bloodshed and the arena.”

Geoff's features grew serious. “What if I were to ask you to look after my daughter? Would you protect her honor? Would you die for her?”

Michael's face grew serious as well as he bowed. “I would, my lord. I would gladly do what I could for my master's flesh and blood.”

A hand reached out to lift his chin and a kind smile met him. “Then you shall have your freedom.”

**. . .**

“You're the emperor's favorite you know,” Gavin said conversationally. “He speaks of you often and his daughter claims she wishes to be a gladiator like you.”

“Does she?” Michael asked. “How would you know?”

“Birds whisper to me,” Gavin replied. “They're easily appeased once I tell them I'm your servant assigned by the emperor himself. So many of them flock to me, asking me of your prowess, your physique. They ask, 'have any of the matrons paid for him yet?' and they're always so disappointed to hear that the only ones who call on you are the sons of senators.”

Michael scoffed. “Do you share their disappointment?”

“Oh gods no,” Gavin replied as he continued to wipe down the chest plate in his hands. “I prefer the arrangements your lanista makes with the young men. It means you shall never find yourself in trouble. Senators do not take kindly to babes made by slaves. A couple years ago, there was a stir about it. The whole of Rome was in such a fit about how it had occurred and what would happen. The champion was slain of course but the woman and her babe? Oh, it was the talk for weeks!”

“Do me a favor and put your mouth to better use.” Michael called out. “I've no masters to serve tonight and you are wasting away the night.”

Gavin laughed and placed the armor carefully on the table before walking toward the pallet where Michael lay, tunic loose about his body. The servant was already slipping out of his own robes as he knelt over the gladiator, knees planted on either side of his hips.

“And how does my master wish me to serve him tonight?” Gavin began to pull the other's tunic off. “Simply with my mouth? Are we to ignore the oil I managed to procure for tonight?”

Michael surged forward, wrapping one hand around the servant's neck, and bringing him down into an open-mouthed kiss. His tongue slipped easily into the other's, passing over lips and feeling the bumps of teeth. Michael heard the younger man whimper slightly, chest falling forward into his as calloused hands clutched at his shoulders.

He pushed them up, guiding the man to sit between his knees. Michael continued to kiss Gavin as he pushed off his tunic, groaning in approval when skin met his. Michael felt hands running through his locks and he pulled away, leaning into the touch as Gavin's mouth trailed down to his neck.

It had been nearly half a year since that night of the idus when Gavin had showed up in his private chamber of the ludus, explaining the emperor had sent him as a gift. He hadn't known what to do with him until Gavin had begun to disrobe and went to lie in pallet as if he belonged there.

A sharp bit to his shoulder brought him back to the present and he pressed the servant on his back. Once there Michael reached for his wandering hands and pinned them down, allowing him time to look for the vial of oil.

“Here,” Gavin wiggled, trying to free himself. “Let me.”

Michael let go and watched as the servant slipped out from under him and pad over to his discarded robe. He bent down and Michael sat back, enjoying the view before the servant turned to him with an unimpressed look.

“Is that all you wish to do? Look?”

Michael massaged his cock and clicked his tongue. “Prepare yourself for me.”

Once Gavin was back on the pallet, Michael pushed him to lie down, sitting back to watch as the servant struggled to arrange himself and prepare himself all at once. Tutting Michael reached out and pulled the oil from the other's grasp.

“Useless, even at the most easiest of tasks.” He murmured.

“Perhaps I prefer your touch to mine,” Gavin replied.

Michael slicked his fingers and pressed first one then another into Gavin's hole. There was a gasp and Michael felt his cock harden at the tightness surrounding his fingers. No matter how many times they'd been together before, during the games Gavin's hole was always as tight as that first night. Michael thanked the gods every time he felt it around his cock. A gentle reminder of the prize he had for exiting the arena with his life.

He waited until Gavin was pushing onto his digits before pressing in another. The moan which spilled from the servant's mouth was enough to set him in motion. After a few more thrusts of his fingers he dragged them out, much to the disappointment of the young man. Michael slicked up his cock, and yanked Gavin close. In one swift movement he entered Gavin's slick hole. Michael waited, allowing him to adjust before the pathetic mewling had him pulling out and pushing back in.

He set a brutal rhythm, pressing to the hilt each time, relishing in the slap of balls against the ass of his servant. Michael paused and slipped his arm around Gavin's back pulling him up and settling him in his lap. Legs wrapped around his waist and wrapping his arms around the other's waist he set a new pace. With this new angle his movements were slower but no less powerful, judging from the cries slipping from Gavin's lips.

Michael reached between them, tugging at Gavin's cock, halfheartedly attempting to establish some control but his strokes were messy. However this appeared to be enough because after a few more thrusts Gavin froze, nails digging into his back and Michael felt his release coat their bellies and his hand. He eased the young man down, continuing to drive into him, at a faster and desperate speed before following his servant over the edge.

Reluctantly Michael pulled out and settled beside Gavin, mumbling when he felt a cloth pass over his belly and hand. Warmth soon enveloped him and he reached out for the willing body beside him closer.

“The emperor is going to free me.” Michael whispered.

“Oh?”

“He wants me to become his daughter's bodyguard.”

Gavin was silent and Michael waited patiently, knowing his servant to never have a still tongue.

“What will become of me?”

“I've requested to keep you.”

“Oh. That sounds... lovely.”

“Will you come with me?

“I think I just did that.”

Michael's abrupt shout of laughter could probably be heard throughout the halls of the ludus but he didn't care. He pulled Gavin into a kiss, chaste and gentle, before closing his eyes and allowing slumber to take him.

**Author's Note:**

> Some translations:
> 
>  _dimachaerus_ —a class of gladiator who used two swords, no shield, and had minimal armor.  
>  _provocator_ —a class of gladiators protected by a breastplate, a rectangular shield, and sword.  
>  _lanista_ —owner/trainer of a troop of gladiators but socially the lanista was a “vendor of human flesh.”  
> Ray is a _retiarius_ —(“net fighter”) a class of gladiators who wore little to no armor, carried a trident, a dagger, and a net.  
>  _idus_ —thought to have been the day of the full moon.  
>  _ludus_ —school for gladiators.


End file.
